Spiders, Souls, and Spinning Sugar
by Soulseekerthe13th
Summary: Experimental: Everyone is a part of the plan. Even if the do not know it. They are all our pawns. No one will survive. Even the Girl must die. Camaztotz will be raised.
1. Nightfall in London

**The History of Agnyron**

"I am tired of waiting, tired of running, tired of having others take what is mine by right. I will avenge my blood right. What better way to do that then with a blood right of my own? Nothing particularly bloody, and afterwards I might take a nice bloodbath, as not to bloody the dagger of course."

A young man walked the streets of 17th century London alone. It was well after midnight, but not early enough for anyone sane to be walking about at all. That was after all, the problem. He had begun to doubt his own sanity. He was one of the most imaginative men or women alive, so it had nothing to do with that. He had gone through all of the explanations that were possible and carefully tested each one, but to no avail. This was why he was searching for the High Council of the Void. They were the only ones that could help him.

Unfortunately, something found HIM first. An enormous spider lunged from a back alley, and dragged him away, he screamed, but the creature covered his face. He looked at it not with fear, for the scream was from the fact that it was kidnapping him, but with admiration, for he was one of the best natural historians that London had ever seen. In the darkness of the alley, a creature approached him and gave him a large crown, a crown made from long, green and black spikes…

Moments later, he stepped from the shadows, the crown affixed upon his head, and his eyes locked in a steely gaze. His friends found him that morning, prancing around the streets with a malicious look in his eye. The effects of wearing the crown were apparent. You needed not to eat, nor sleep, nor drink, and it bestowed you with ultimate mental power as well as the physical stimulation it offered.

"It all comes with a terrible price though…" he often warned his friends. They scoffed, what could be terrible when in the light of such power?

One night, one of his friends, a jealous man by the name of Jonathan, spied on the crown-bearer as he went by his nightly jaunt, hoping to see what this terrible "price" really was. The crown-bearer turned to his friend "N-n-no, I can't not him." He said limply. "What do you mean?" asked Jonathan, surprised at his friend's reaction.

"Every night, the first human that I move past, must be devoured by darkness of evil long past. Their soul within can no longer last, or my next day will be my last." The Crown-Bearer recited morbidly. "WHAT THE BLOODY…" the friend screamed, but never got to finish his Cockney (1) euphemism, because, a long thin, spider-like arm protruded from The Bearer's back, and he staggered backwards. His head rose high into the moonlight night, and he screamed for all of London to hear: "AGNYRON!" The newly formed Agnyron (My gosh it's nice to finally give him a name, because you can only write "Crown-Bearer" or "The Guy" so many times.) closed his eyes and opened them again, this time they were larger than apples, pupil less, iris less oval-shaped things that glowed an unearthly green. He laughed, and vowed never again to be bound by the laws of the worthless, only he was king, only he was master, HE WOULD RULE!

* * *

"Spiders, Souls and Spinning Sugar! Power, Death and Resurrection! Necromancers, Ballet Dancers, Wheels and Wheels of Burning Flowers! Evil, Darkness, Candy Bars! Pain, and Death, and Life on Mars! Eternal Eyeballs sewing shut, eternal vampires'' golden books!" This scream rang out through the streets of London for weeks, each time either left on a recording or pinned as a note to the wall. It seemed someone was trying to bring back some of the more morbid old customs. Many years ago, someone who called himself Agnyron committed several crimes before leaving London, claiming that he was moving on to "Higher Ground" and "Greener Pastures." In reality of course, he had gone off to be part of Zenith's merry crew, and attempt to rule the world. Null was their hope, once he had overthrown Whispius, they could in turn overthrow him, and take their place. Unfortunately, him coup failed, and left Zenith his last-resort plan. Plan number 8,457,975: The Trump Card, the Ace in the Hole, The long awaited Xanatos Gambit.

In truth however, the police were completely befuddled. There were odd thefts being carried out around London, always after dark, and always from the very top floor of a building. The thefts were not of anything particularly valuable, they were of odd things: stone mortars, pages from old storybooks, and strangely, a large number of people who kept their appendix in a jar of formaldehyde after it was removed had that stolen as well. The police checked old spell and voodoo tomes, musty libraries, anything that could've given them any clue whatsoever. In finding none, they came to the logical conclusion that the person who had committed these crimes was a complete loony, and would surely come to their senses at some point. The public however knew better. They realized dead on that a new form of magic was being dabbled in. New to this century that is, for this magic was from many, many years ago…(2) A magic some emnsly powerfull that it was impossible to say exactly where it came from, all that they knew was that their world was about to come to a screeching halt. They had heard of such things passed down from generation to generation for many, many years.

* * *

1 Cockney: A form of slang used in Great Britain with a clear dictionary. It was supposedly created by rhyming a word with another and then associating it with something.

(2) 300 years, 3 score, 8 fortnights, 6 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours, 5 minutes, and 48.7 seconds to be exact


	2. Morning in Amity Park

"Spiders, Souls and Spinning Sugar! Power, Death and Resurrection! Evil, Darkness, Candy Bars! Pain and Death and Life on Mars! Eternal Eyeballs Sewing Shut, Eternal Vampire's Golden Books!" The cry rang out throughout 21st century Amity Park. The police, for one, were thoroughly befuddled. Break-ins were being committed all around the city. The items stolen were very rarely anything of value, old jewelry, scraps of leather. The case that was both the most confusing and the most famous however, was where the thief stole an entire room. The police had responded to the loud beeping sound coming from their database that night. My minion Zenn-Ekx just happened to be on patrol that night, and he gave me a full report.

"_There were two police officers in the car, one rather thin, and one slightly fat. It was the classic stereotype; they had even stopped fro doughnuts and were lingering in the alley of all places! Suddenly, a loud beeping sound issued from the dashboard of the patrol car, which just so happened to be parked at a 70-degree angle in the center parking spot, exactly like in the movies. The police suddenly became very serious. They turned, dropping their doughnuts, and leapt into the car, slamming the door. The fat cop stepped on the gas pedal much harder than necessary, causing the 7 year old machine to give a great lurch and belch black smoke before moving. The thin cop began franticly pushing buttons in the hope that something impressive would happen. The police car bopped along at a steady rate of 5 ½ MPH before sliding into a mailbox at the location of the blinking red dot. They attempted to shimmy up the drainpipe, but decided against it when the fat officer accidentally broke off several of the nails holding it in place. They pushed down the door, (which had been ripped off of its hinges, making the fact that they could push it down quite a bit less impressive.) and walked timidly inside. The first thing that they noticed was that the entire foyer was coated in what appeared to be webbing, and that the employees had been mummified in cocoons. The thin officer sliced open the cocoon holding the chief of the assistant part-time secretaries, the most important man currently in the building, (which in itself told you how much trouble they were in) but all he did was mutter, quiver and occasionally scream FRUITCAKE! Or POTATO JUICE! They attempted to strip away the webbing, but soon realized that the entire room was gone. The webbing did not cover the walls and floor. It WAS the walls and floor. That's when I was noticed, but mistaken for a leprechaun, and had to make my escape."_

The next morning, Danny Fenton AKA Danny Phantom AKA The second Halfer AKA Daniel Fenton AKA Our Protagonist AKA The Kid Whom I Am Still Trying To Think Up More Names For walked to school. Now, Zenn-Ekx was charged with making this normally mundane activity fun. Danny was just pondering exactly what he would say to his teachers. He had found it hard to sleep last night, with all of those false ghost alarms going off all hours of the night. Suddenly, a cold blue mist, the color of frost on ink, escaped his lips. He spun around and with a cry, he transformed into DANNY PHANTOM, the ghost based superhero of Amity Park. Then he tripped and fell in a trashcan. "Come on, who's the ectoplasmic filth this time? Skulker? The Box Ghost?" "BEWARE…" growled a thick whispery voice, obviously not belonging to the signature user of that word. Danny spun around to reveal a man in a suit, with a low brimmed hat covering his face. "Oh yeah?" Danny threw a bolt of compressed energy, generated by the enhanced internal Chi that he possesses and compressing it by contracting the muscles in his wrist, then letting go, at the stranger's hat. Burnt, the hat floated down to the ground, revealing a flawless silver skull, with deep-set purple globes for eyes. "Well, it seems that the ectoplasmic cat is out of the bag, so to speak." The strange ghost growled. "What are you doing here anyway, trying to get some extera pummeling in before the Holiday Truce starts?" asked Danny in a preticularly mocking tone. "Actually, I'm here to make your day more fun, preferably by knocking you senceless." The stranger rasped. "Who exactly is this supposed to be fun for?" asked Danny. "Moi." The creature cawed in a way reminiscent of a vulture but still managing to keep a sardonic tone. With that, the creature ripped off the tuxedo, revealing twisted black and purple armor. The skull floated for a moment, and was then grasped by deep blue tentacles and held it a few inches above the body. "Lets have some fun!" He ran forwards with an impressive sneer for a skull. Danny was ready for a full on attack, and simply stepped out of the way, meaning to deliver a strike to his odd opponents back. However, he didn't expect his opponent, upon missing, to do a full back flip and face him once more. Thus, his opponent saw the blast coming for min, and nonetheless refused to move aside. Tucker snickered. He loved watching ghosts get defeated by their own stupidity. The ecto-blast grew closer and closer. And Danny began to feel nervous, what if this…THING…had some sort of secret plan? The only thing that Danny did NOT expect was exactly what happened. The energy bolt stopped, flickered, and then died out, Danny changed, via a pair of blue energy rings (Which really served no purpose other than obscuring the actual transformation, which was far more disturbing, by moving with it.) into a human. The Ghost-Gauntlet that Sam had been preparing to don was short-circuited, and fell apart at her feet. Even Tucker's prize possession crumbled in the hands of a weeping, mournful Tucker. "That was incredibly strange." Tucker said, composing himself and getting up off of the ground. "Danny… we should really figure out who that was." Sam said, desperately hoping that he would agree, he never really understood that sometimes research was important. "After school Sam," Danny answered dismissively, "you know my real life has to come first."

Sam grudgingly obliged, and they pushed open the doors of Casper High School and were faced with the odiferous assault of the linoleum flooring. "Students!" Principal Ishiama's voice echoed through the loudspeaker. "Anyone who is in Mr. Lancer's class should know that he has not been able to come to work to day, having come down with an unfortunate case of Phantom Fever." "Phantom Fever," asked Danny, "What on earth is that supposed to be?" "It was on the news for a few months now, an odd sickness, it just deteriorates you, your bones ache, your muscles tense, and eventually you disintegrate completely. "Mayor" Vlad blamed the ghosts of course, it's like Nero and the Christians." Sam said all of this quietly, so that none of the Spy-Eyes would pick it up. They were Vlad's new inventions, tiny, ecto-energy powered robots that followed and recorded. "Well, at lest I don't have to worry about Lancer." Danny said, obviously relieved.

His relief vanished the moment he walked into the classroom. There was a substitute of course, but he was the most ghastly and diabolical looking substitute that he had ever seen. He wore only black, black coat, black long-sleeve shirt, black pants, black boots, and to complete the picture, an eerie white complexion the color of ice, and deep, gaunt eyes. Naturally, Sam was impressed with how far he had taken this look. "Hello class." The man spoke with a thin, whispery voice, he sounded like an ice-cold knife being pushed against the neck of an unwilling victim as giant spiders devoured him alive. "I am Professor Thoth Ravenhearst. You WILL address me as Professor Ravenhearst, and you WILL do so with the utmost respect. "Well, Mr. Ravenhearst…" Dash, the school bully and captain of the football team asked tentatively, "Did you steal your clothes from a morgue or something?" Dash was eager to see exactly how much abuse the Professor would stand. Evidently, it wasn't much. "That's Professor Ravenhearst to you!" He slammed his knuckles down on Dash's desk, causing it to splinter somewhat. Oddly, the remark about his clothing went unnoticed. Samantha was too busy admiring this teacher's individuality to notice, and Danny was having too much fun watching Dash whimper, so only Tucker registered that a teacher shouldn't be able to crack a desk by rapping on it with his knuckles, and that Prof. Ravenhearst's eyes glowed an eerie purple-gold. "Class dismissed!" The Professor said, his words cutting through the few seconds of eerie lingering silence like a knife at a prisoner's throat. The class exited, acting for the world as if they were strung up on a gallows. Meanwhile, Tucker tried to convince the others of the lingering evil within the new teacher. Danny and Sam were staring off into the distance, occasionally saying things like "Uh-huh" and "Okay". "Really guys, come on, 1: He has purple-gold eyes. 2: He can crack desks by hitting them. 3: Have you noticed all of the creepy metaphors? And 4: The author has used the word "eerie" at least three time! If that isn't a sign I don't know what is! "Uh-huh." Said Danny. "Okay." Said Sam. "I give up." Moaned Tucker exasperated.


	3. Dancing with Demons

The trio of Ghost-Hunters arrived at the gym a few hours later, just finishing Science Class with Ms. Tetslauff. She had been out of the room most of the period, so it was much more difficult to tell exactly what it was that she was trying to hide. Danny had come to the quite logical conclusion that the deadly disciplinarian was hiding something, hopefully a disfigurement of some sort, as she never missed a chance to rend the skin from their faces by screaming at them so loudly that you'd think there was a nuclear explosion being created in the same room, only with the number of volatile chemical elements arranged just so around your desk so that the brunt of the explosion went down your throat. Tucker, Danny, and Sam watched in mild shock as she came to the front of the class and revealed a set of bandages covering most of the right side of her body.

"Class," she said in her deep throaty voice, "As you can see, I'm not exactly fit to teach gym today…" At this a cacophony of cheers and applause and even huge spurts of confetti and balloons filled the air. "…So I have hired a replacement from the finest physical institution in the world, Mr. Fouggreadpner (1), and don't think he'll be any easier on you lily-livered lot, if anything he'll be 10 times tougher." She walked away. Several students simply stared ahead in shock, some fainted, some screamed, one collapsed and started writhing around on the ground. It was well known that Coach Tetslauff worked everyone to the bone in her gym-like torture chamber. The idea of anyone going harder was unspeakable. Sam however, being one of the most athletic, seemed ecstatic. Danny and Tucker just groaned.

Their new coach seemed to be Prof. Ravenhearst's opposite in every way, shape, and form. He was heavily muscled, but only to the extent where he looked as if he had been through training, he still (ironically, as you will soon find.) looked human of course. He had tan skin, bright, icy blue eyes, and wore a bright white tracksuit, bright white working-gloves, and bright-white heavy-duty boots. Just looking at this figure seared your retinas to the core. He spoke with an extremely thick accent, halfway between Icelandic and Polish. "20 LAPS!" he screamed. "NO MR. BAXTER, NOT ON THE TRACK!" He said to Dash, who was ready to begin running. "THE SCHOOL BOARD HAS INSTALLED VE SWIMMINK POOL, FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY!" Several students cheered, swimming would make classes much more fun. "HOWEVER, TO MAKE VIS KLASS VE BEST IT KAN BE, I HAVE FROZEN IT OVER!" The students groaned. "I HAVE KREATED AN OBSTICAL COURSE! EACH STUDENT VILL RUN TO THE END OV VIS BEAM AT A VULL SPRINT! NEXT, THEY WILL SKID ACROSS THE ICE, KEEPING AVAY VROM VE POLES! VEN, THEY WILL LEAN BACK UNDER THIS BAR, AND SLIDE THROUGH! VINALLY, THEY WILL WREASTLE VE SWORD VROM VE SUIT OV ARMOUR AND END UP BACK 'ERE!"

Tucker and Danny finished with only some bruises and an overextended ankle. Dash, not used to moving on the ice, accidentally tripped over the bar, which they were supposed to slide under but evidently was level with their knees, and struck the suit of armor dead on. Only Sam could actually get to the ice and back without maiming herself, and was feeling rather proud when the sharp needle of Mr. Fouggreadpner's voice punctured the glossy bubble of self-confidence that surrounded her entire form. "NOW, VE ARE GOINK TO MAKE IT HARDER!" More than two third of the class had to be taken to the infirmary at this point. Now they had to chisel their way under the ice, before coming up directly under the beam and swinging them selves atop it. Still, Sam was the only on who managed to survive the course without experiencing post-traumatic-stress-disorder or maiming themselves. "VERY GOOD SAMANTHA, NOW I WOULD LIKE TO LET VE WHOLE KLASS KNOW THAT EACH WEEK I VILL E HANDINK OUT DPECIAL PRIZES TO THOSE WHO KAN KOMPLETE MY CHALLENGE WITHOUT COLLASPINK! THE PRIZES FROM ANY PRETIKULAR WEEK CAN BE FITTED TOGETHER INTO A TROPHY!" KLASS DISMISSED!" He walked up to Samantha, and his voice dropped into a low whisper, "Tell no one, but these prizes do more vhan just form a trophy, vhey form a key. Now, use vis key, opens nothink, but is a far more spectacular trophy than you kould ever see anywhere."

* * *

Mr. Fouggreadpner did not attend the teachers' meeting that night. In fact, none of the new teachers did. Not Mr. Ekx-Zenn, the new math teacher, who always wore his hat down low in class, nor did Ms. Tfarc-Evol, the Spanish teacher, who's thoughts ran so dark she spent more than half the class teaching them words like "Death" or "Abbadon." If fact, the only time the actual teachers actually met their replacements was when Mrs. Cormez, the actual Spanish teacher, spotted Ms. Tfarc-Evol in the hallway talking to Mr. Ravenhearst. The excited whispers became more and more frantic, and Mrs. Cormez thought that she heard something about keeping the boy isolated, or he could get too attached to this world. Unfortunately, she chalked it all up to her hearing going to pot, and miss interpreting a remark about education.

"Now class," whispered Ms. Tfarc-Evol, she was a tall, thin woman, well built, and with a steely determination in her eyes. She wore all black, like Mr. Ravenhearst, excuse me, PROFESSOR Ravenhearst, and spoke little in the class. "All of you get up and perform your oral drills." Danny stood in front of the class, prepared to… Wait, look there, there's that little wisp of blue smoke again! Danny's "Ghost-Sense" a portion of his cold-based powers that seems to make its presence felt by creating a concentrated burst of energy whenever a ghost is near! He jumped, turned and ran out of the room, without even pausing to create a decent alibi. Tucker quickly jumped up. "He, umm…well…had to use the bathroom!" Sam grimaced. This was not going to go well. Oddly enough, Ms. Tfarc-Evol said nothing, and called Dash up to the board, to the jerk of a jock's general embarrassment.

Danny Phantom sped through the hallways of Casper High, his form vibrating at such a frequency that his atoms moved apart, rendering him invisible to the naked eye. The cause of the spectral signal was immediately noticeable. A purple robed being was stalking the hallways, turning over trashcans, lifting up lockers and turning them a ghastly grey as their energy was drained. The enigmatic entity continued to cause its monochromatic mayhem and spread atrocious alliterations until the Phantom Fist collided with its braced back. It turned around and threw back its hood to reveal a featureless form of purple plasma. Danny quickly shoved it back into the Ghastly Ghost Zone, but not before it coated several of the ghost-weapons that Danny had pilfered from Fenton Works that morning in a strange purple slime. The slime seemed to contract violently, crushing the weapons into shriveled chunks of circuit boards and wiring.

Suddenly, Danny noticed a young man, perhaps 18 or 20 years of age, dressed all in grey, with shocking black eyes groaning as the purple slime crushed his thin frame like a koala in spandex. Danny quickly superheated the slime with an ecto-blast, reducing it to cinders. The boy fell to his knees, gasping for breath. "How does this stuff work?" Danny wondered aloud. The young man appeared to be regaining his composure, as he straigtened his dark jacket. "There once was a boy named Fisk, whose fencing was exceedingly brisk. So fast was his action, the Fitz-Gerald contraction reduced his rapier to a disc." The stranger rhymed. "What?" Danny was rather puzzled, having never studied theoretical physics. "It accelerates the Fitz-Gerald contraction, reducing surface area and crushing its host." The stranger said again, in clearer terms this time. With that, he shook Danny briskly by the hand and left. With the parting words of: "Disparage not the faith thou dost not know. No one is exactly how they appear."

(1) Fouggreadpner: (Faag-rrehn-duur) Noun, 5th spirit of the netherworld, destroyer of universes, and devourer of souls. This recreant demon was banished from the mortal plane of existence many years ago by Ptolemy of Alexandria before the Hyskos invasion but directly after the rule of Pharaoh Amanhemet the 1st. This magical outburst caused a flaw in the space-time continuum sending over 40 spear wielding djinni backwards in time, causing the total annihilation of the village of Mohenjo-Daro.


End file.
